Catch Me If You Can
by teekova
Summary: FBI agent Emma Swan has been hunting master thief Killian Jones for the past year. But his charms haven't failed to outwit her and slip from her grasp many times. When Emma believes she can finally lock him away, Jones does the unthinkable and seals a deal with the FBI for his freedom. His task? Help the FBI hunt down a wanted thief at the side of his previous pursuer, Emma Swan.


Chapter 1

Not Again

God did Emma Swan need coffee. After getting back from possibly the longest night of her life, she felt her hands tremor at the thought of tasting the golden brown liquid. Not only could she feel her fingers trembling but her head was reeling. She could feel the tips of her fingers growing numb from the damp ice pack she had pressed to her head. Her blonde hair was slightly wet from the ice pack and her temple was throbbing in consecutive beats._ Thanks Graham, _Emma grumbled silently.

Emma burst through the large glass doors, the words FBI branded on them in dark blue and under them the unit seal. She had gotten back from the emergency room not long ago. Her coworker Graham Humbert gave her quite the knock on the head while he tried to wrestle off a henchman from the case she had just closed. Emma moved toward her desk, cluttered over with papers and empty coffee cups. She dragged her freehand across the manila envelope that contained the details of the very case; a satisfied grin stretched itself across her face as she could finally render the case closed. It was then that a welcoming and strong whiff of coffee enveloped her senses. She peered down to see a Styrofoam cup cradled by a familiar large hand.

"How did you know?" Emma chuckled, whipping her gaze to Graham's friendly eyes. He shrugged as Emma snatched the cup from him and plopped down into her worn chair.

"Took a guess that you might need it," he peered at her head cautiously "though you might not want to mix it with those pain pills or you're in for quite the morning." Emma glared at him and took a hearty chug of the caffeinated drink. Graham rolled his eyes at her simply and sighed.

"I'm sorry about your head Emma," he apologized again for the hundredth time that morning.

"It's fine Graham. Did you make sure the police cleared the house?" Emma asked him as she inhaled the fumes of her coffee, slightly whishing at the moment it was hot chocolate instead.

"Yup, it's clear. I made sure the police escorted the henchmen out and that Regina Mill's was seen behind bars," he reported.

"Thank you, I'll see you tomorrow then," Emma replied. She let her eyes roam around the bustling morning scene in the office. Federal agents made their way around her desk, shuffling around, multiple cases surely opening and closing. She could feel the tension of the room radiate on her shoulders, loving the buzz. Well, it was either the room or the fact that the pain killers where _really_ kicking in. Emma decided it was time to put the coffee down.

"Oh, before I head off, Gold wants to see you in his office," Graham reported, a sympathetic look washing over his features, before he waved a small goodbye and turned on his heal. "Good luck," he called over his shoulder, his pace quickening.

"God," Emma groaned, tossing the dewy ice pack onto her desk as she got up "here we go again." Suddenly Emma felt her hand knock over her small cup of coffee, feeling the piercing hot liquid stain the front of her shirt, making her jump and hiss. "Really?" she grumbled, hastily snatching a handful of tissues out of a baby blue box that perched on her desk. She dabbed the newly formed brown spot on her clear white shirt, one hidden under her signature leather jacket that was thankfully safe from the coffee's wrath. Now she knew she would rather have had hot chocolate instead.

Emma made her way through the crowd of agents on the floor of the unit, making her way up a small set of stairs to get to a forest green door with the word Gold branded onto the front. Emma was still wiping the front of her shirt as she stepped into the office, the room occupying the same intimidating aura set by the golden branded name plaque on the door.

"Ah Agent Swan, good to see you alive and well," he droned as he looked up from a stack of papers on his desk. Emma finally unglued her eyes from the dark spot on her shirt to face the golden haired man, who's pointed features where mixed with little sympathy. "I amuse the case is closed."

"Yup, Mill's is behind bars and the house is cleared," Emma explained hastily, eager to get out of there so she could go home.

"Good," he nodded "this means that you are open for a new case then." Emma cursed internally, she was hoping he wouldn't say those exact words but it seemed her luck was running real slim. Gold slid a new, fresh envelope across his desk, the sight making Emma wince, so much for her day off.

"It seems I don't have a choice," she snatched the folder off of Gold's desk and flipped it open.

"Well as the best FBI agent in this unit, I expect you to be fully operational, especially when it comes to cases such as the one you're holding." Emma's eyebrows rose slightly in surprise, she peered down at the case file to see just what she was dealing with, and all she saw was a pair of piercing blue eyes staring back at her from a small image.

"Killian Jones, a con-artist, master thief, and well known black market seller," Gold explained. "He has been wanted by the bureau for over four years now but every time we get close to him he seems to slip right through our fingers." Emma's eyes raked over his previous offences, they ranged from stealing multiple valued jewels to even some famous paintings. "I believe if anyone can take this bastard down, it's you dearie."

"Why do you think it can be done now if you couldn't do it before?" Emma asked. Gold stepped up from his chair, his weight shifting to his black cane, one topped with a golden handle.

"We got word of a heist he is planning on a museum about a week from now, and we believe we can catch him off guard, but we need your expertise Ms. Swan," Gold explained. Emma's eyes drifted back down to Killian's face, it was a clear shot of him on a security camera, his eyes shining as he faced the camera. His face was lined with a dark scruff and his head was bestowed with the same colored tuff of hair. Emma could almost feel his smugness radiating through the image, the feeling making her almost hate him almost instantaneously.

"Don't worry Gold," she said sternly, her head throbbing stopping almost instantly "I'll get him."

_One Year Later…_

"I'm gonna kill him," Emma hissed. She snatched her gun out of its hoister as she made her way around another chiseled corner of the obnoxiously large yacht she was trying to keep her footing on. She could hear the rain drizzling outside as it hit the tinted windows of the boat. She had told Graham to go around from the other side in case the bastard tried to run again. Of course that smug idiot would choose a boat as his getaway vehicle, not something as easy as a car. It took Emma _at least_ ten minutes to track down the nearest motor boat shop in the marina, let alone try to turn the damn machine on before she could catch up to him. God she had just about enough of Killian Jones. She had spent the last year tracking and re-tracking him, getting so close as having him in cuffs before he somehow manage to outwit her and get away. She had hunted his ass to the far ends of the earth and would go even further if she had to in order to throw him in jail. His face (being unfairly attractive, Emma had to admit) had haunted her ever since she opened his case file and she wasn't gonna let him get away again. Just as Emma peaked around the next corner into what seemed like a sitting room in the never ending corridors of the yacht, Emma felt the cool steel of a gun press to the back of her head. _Speak of the devil._

"Always know how to make an entrance don't you love?" a soft accent chuckled behind her. God damn him. Jones may be Emma's worst nightmare, but man did he have a way to make her knees weak and her skin tingle.

"And here I thought you would never show your face," Emma scoffed. She whirled around, knocking the gun out of his hand before kneeing her intruder in the stomach; he stumbled back a bit before leaping back at her. Emma was caught off guard as a pair of strong hands caught her wrists as she was suddenly pinned to the wall, her arms above her head. It was then that Emma was put face to face with the man she had been feverously hunting for the past year. His blue eyes meet her green ones as he smirked slightly.

"Hello again beautiful, miss me?" he said, his breath grazing her face gently before he knocked her gun out of her hand, which was unfortunately pinned above her. Emma squirmed, determined to get out of his grasp and reach her gun, one that was currently being unhelpful resting on the floor only a few feet away.

"Hello Jones," she growled before she kneed him in the groin, breaking free from his iron grasp, and punching him straight across the jaw, "and no, not one bit."

Killian stumbled back through a door behind him and tumbled into the boats slick deck. Emma snatched her gun off the floor and followed him outside, the rain pecking at her slightly.

"What the bloody hell was that for Swan?" he grumbled, whipping his mouth of a bit of crimson blood that had trickled from his mouth. Emma held her gun out and aimed it at him, her target finally locked.

"The past year you moron," she hissed. Killian cocked his head and lifted a single brow.

"You wound me love," he held his hand over his heart, as if to seem hurt "It couldn't be over that," he cocked his head, eyes boring through hers "Is it about the fact that I ransacked your hotel room in Rome and stole your precious pillow chocolates?" he cooed. Emma rolled her eyes and tightened her grip on her gun.

"No," she snapped "and it wasn't just that but the mini fridge too. Now don't move or I'll put a bullet in your head." Emma stepping cautiously toward him, reaching for her cuffs.

"So you_ are_ still sore over that aren't you love?" he chuckled, as he leaned back to lean against the boats railing. Emma cocked her gun, and took a step closer.

"Move again and I swear your dead," she hissed.

"Oh come on love, you won't shoot me," he taunted, stepping up right against the railing.

"Frankly I'm surprised I haven't but a bullet between your eyes," Emma grumbled "and ya I'm sore, you stuck me with the bill." The thief laughed and shrugged. "But it doesn't matter," Emma snapped "I've had enough close calls with you. I'll get my revenge as soon as my partner gets here and we stick your ass in jail."

"Oh you mean him," Killian motioned to the opposite side of the railing. Emma followed his gaze to see an unconscious Graham handcuffed to the railing of the ship, his hair and clothes soaking wet. But before Emma had time to register the scene, she felt her gun being knocked out of her hand and snatched away as Jones flipped her around and pinned her to the railing, gun pointing to her ribs.

"What the hell did you do to him?" she spat, flicking her eyes down to the loaded weapon pointing at her and back up to Jones's blue orbs.

"Oh, don't worry love, it's just a small sedative," he replied simply "plus I figured it would be nice to have a moment alone with you." He grinned toothily like the Cheshire cat, his eyes twinkling in the soft light dripping from the inside of the yacht. It was that smiled that Emma hated the most. It made her both weak in the knees but made her want to kill him even more at the same time.

"Go to hell," Emma replied, trying to figure out the best way out of his grasp without having a bullet lodged into her a second later.

"Oh come on love," he said lowering his soft voice "don't be like that." He moved closer, that cat grin back on his face. She heard her gun click. _Shit. _"Well, doesn't this remind me of something," he cooed, tapping the gun against his chin quickly before grinning and pressing it back against Emma ribs "ah yes, how could I forget, our first date."

"Date? You mean when I kicked your ass and almost sent you flying off of that museum building?" Emma snapped.

"Yes, _that_," he chuckled. He closed the distance between them, the only thing in the way of them being pressed right up against each other was Emma's small gun. Emma shivered, she felt his breath graze her face. It smelled like rum and salt. Man she really hated him

"I swear I'm gonna kill you for this," Emma breathed out "or maybe your new cell mate can do it for me."

"Ah yes love," he said, nudging a piece of her damn blond hair from her shoulder, "that's what you say every time. And trust me; I don't plan on going to jail. Maybe just selling those precious jewels will do."

"And _where_ did you say you hid them?" Emma asked, lowering her voice and deciding the best way out of this was to play along. Killian lowered his head brushed his lips against her ear gently.

"I didn't darling, that would be a secret," he whispered. Emma felt her hand graze his taught stomach and abs hidden under his black cotton shirt.

"Oh come on," she nosed his jaw slightly, brushing her lips across the scruff lining his face "you can tell me." He felt him take a sharp breath. Emma let her hand run down between them, inching lower and lower as it brushed near the gun pressed against her and the helm of his dark jeans. Just before she was about the grab the gun, she felt Killian chuckled.

"So close love," he whispered before placing a small kiss on the shell of her ear, the action making Emma shudder. "I'm sure we'll see each other again soon, lass, but till then…"

Suddenly Emma was whirled around and lost her footing on the slippery deck, crashing onto the floor. She saw Killian jump over the railing, into the ocean, gun in hand. Panic shot through Emma and she fumbled up from the floor. She ran over to Graham, who still lay unconscious on the floor and snatched his gun up before peaking over the railing of the yacht. But all she saw was the silhouette of a small motor boat, _her_ motor boat, start off and away from the luxurious ship. Emma fired the gun, hoping to at least hit the motor, but the boat sped away, in it the man she had been hunting for the past year, one she had gotten so close to catching multiple times, and the one she had just let get away again.

\\\\

"You _what_?" Gold's voice hissed through the tiny speaker of Emma's phone. She had made this ridiculous phone call way too many times.

"Look Gold, I know this may seem bad but.." Emma tried for words but her boss cut her off again.

"I supply you with Miami's best team, you went in with a partner, and you had him at gun point, but you let him get away? _Again_?" Gold shouted. "I'm starting to believe your _letting_ him get away."

"Cut the crap Gold," Emma rubbed her head as she stepping into her hotel's elevator and hit the fifth floor button. She had just gotten back from the emergency room where Graham was dropped off and cleared with a minor concussion and a small dose of some kinds of sleep serum. All she needed was to get a change of clothes before she would run to the police unit for any news on the missing motor boat Jones took off on.

"Look, he couldn't have gone far. How far could he have sailed on a motor boat?" Emma fumbled, her words sounding wrong even to her. She knew if she had just cuffed him or tackled him to the floor, he would have been in jail and she wouldn't have to face yet another failed attempt at catching Killian Jones.

"I don't care how far he went, I don't care if he sailed that goddamn boat to the other side of the world, I want his ass in jail!" Gold was practically yelling now, Emma sharing his frustration. The elevator rumbled before open up the fifth floor.

"I know. Don't worry, I'll find him," Emma promised "If it's the last this I do."

"That's what you have been saying for the past year, Ms. Swan. I'm giving you one more chance, you either find him or I assign another agent to hunt him instead," her boss finished. Emma heard the dull beep of the line going dead. She sighed and slid her card into the hotel door, it buzzed and swung open readily. Emma grabbed her _Do Not Disturb_ sign off the door and stepped into the room. She peeled off her leather jacket, finding that it smelled like rum and salt. God she was starting to smell like him too. It's as if she couldn't get him out of her life anywhere she went. Emma tossed her jacket onto the bed before something caught her eye. On the creamy striped pillow, embroider with the hotels name, laid two colorfully wrapped chocolates and a neatly folded note. _No._

Emma snatched the note from her pillow and opened it to find neatly written handwriting.

_**Quite the show you put on, Swan. Hope we can do that again sometime, hopefully in a more private setting and preferably without the gun and donut eating idiots. **_

_**-KJ**_

_**P.S. Saved you the chocolates this time, love.**_

"Son of a bitch," Emma hissed, reading the note over again. She could almost hear his smug voice saying those exact words. Emma folded the note back up and grabbed her leather jacket off the bed. "You won't get away this time," she swore, forgetting to put the Do Not Disturb sign back on the door as she bolted out and into the hallway.


End file.
